A Matchmaker's Tale
by silva star
Summary: Serena’s a great matchmaker, but with success comes irony. A Rendition of the twelve days of Christmas except with my own backwards twist. (Don’t take the song literally; I know it starts from Dec. 25th to the 5th of January).


**Author's note:**  I noticed that a lot of stories are being written in second person now and so I decided to give it a try because I just like the way it sounds and it's a little easier to write.  LadyVader's "Friend Like Me" inspired this little ficlet and to this day I still love it.  Her story is from the Harry Potter fandom, I love _what if _stories and so I decided to write my own. I know I'm late with the holiday, but when you get an idea you can't help but go with it.  

Summary:  Serena's a great matchmaker, but with success comes irony. A Rendition of the twelve days of Christmas except with my own backwards twist. (Don't take the song literally; I know it starts from Dec. 25th to the 5th of January). 

**A Matchmaker's Tale**

You immediately feel him. You don't exactly understand how, but you know that he's just walked through the door and your ears are twitching at the sound of his voice.

You don't want to look because you know he's not alone, you know she's standing next to him probably holding his hand or probably her arm laced through his and they're smiling being the perfect couple that you knew they would be.   

You're a great matchmaker.  You always were, you think as you watch them circulate the room.  You fiddle with the bag handle and bite your lip.  You're aware that you're staring, but all you want is one look into his deep-sea blue eyes and you imagine him to saying thank you and telling you how much he loves it. 

You look down at the plastic bag in your right hand.  The light hit him perfectly that day and you couldn't resist and you sigh as _the Twelve Days of Christmas_ plays from the CD player across the room.  

You sing along for a bit: _O__n the 1st day of Christmas my true love gave to me . . ._   

And in your mind you walk over to them and pull Darien by his sleeve because you want to speak with him in private and Raye is too naïve at the moment to care so you take advantage without question.  He wonders aloud what it is you want and you caress his cheek and tell him of a story where you're the only girl for him and he's the only one for you.  

At first he doesn't understand, but then you tell him of the first day of Christmas when he cooks you dinner and you can smell the food sizzling from the living room and you're tempted to get a little taste, but he's already kicked you out of the kitchen and you have no desire to get scolded again.  

By the aroma quickly filling the room you've already figured it's curry and you're excited because it's one of your favorite dishes and your mom hasn't cooked it in awhile.  Your eyes keep wandering from the television as the moving images no longer hold your interest and you can't stop your leg from bouncing up and down.  

Your stomach is making this strange growling sound and you're almost sure Darien can hear it and is purposely taking his sweet time just to drive you nuts and if he were to take a peek into the living room he'd probably think you were insane.  _Or an addict_, you think noticing your fingernails running up and down your arm and you opt to chew on your bottom lip instead. 

You become extremely impatient as the smell hypnotizes you and you're practically drooling, but before you can beg Darien for just the tiniest taste he's already setting the table and pulling out your chair.  Darien raises a brow when you nearly run to the table, but you're too busy rubbing your hands in anticipation to get embarrassed.

He places a butterfly kiss on the side of your forehead and you can't help your lips jerking into a goofy smile as your glazed eyes watch him disappear into the kitchen.  He reappears quickly and your stomach gurgles as you see a plate in each hand and as you see the plastic covers you want to smirk and make some remark about already knowing what's on the plate, but you feel special so you remain quiet.

When he pulls the covers off he laughs because you're licking your lips and your eyes haven't left the dish.  You squeal and dig in, but as soon as the curry touches your tongue you stop and try your hardest not to make a disgusted face because Darien seems to be enjoying his food and you don't have the heart to tell him the truth so you swallow and eat some more.  _Do you like it?_  He asks and you nod with a smile because you finally found something that Darien is awful at, so for now you'll keep him oblivious because as much as you want to rub it in his face, you can't.  Darien wouldn't be Darien if he knew he wasn't perfect.     

On the second day of Christmas you try to persuade him to take you ice-skating.  When he frowns and shakes his head you quickly add that it would be something fun that you two could do together_, Please, Darien!_ He thinks about this for a moment and right before he could say no a second time you give him your famous puppy dog expression making him sigh in surrender and you nearly throw him off balance as you hug him in glee.  

As you take that first step onto the ice you automatically think ice-skating is easy then Darien laughs and tells you to take your hands off the railing.  You blush in embarrassment, almost sure that you're glowing like a tomato, and you suddenly feel foolish as an eight-year-old girl glides by doing a triple-toe-loop as if she was put on the earth to nothing but that one thing.

Darien notices your nervousness and skates over to whisper in your ear.  You smile as he tells you not to worry_, she's only showing off, Serena.  Don't let her intimidate you._  He winks and before you can even think about how sexy he looks doing that he's already pulling you to the middle of the rink.  You cling helplessly hoping and praying that you don't fall on your ass and make a complete fool out of yourself.

He tells you to relax and you give him a look full of skepticism and after a few minutes of getting absolutely nowhere the guilt begins to eat you up inside until he smiles and lets go of your hands.  You try to grab him, but each time your hand reaches out he throws you a mischievous grin and glides farther away.  At this point you're seething now and people are beginning to stare as you shout after him watching him skate around you.  _If you want me, come and get me_ he throws at you, and you're too busy being angry to notice your feet moving along the ice because the only thing running through your head are which curse words will come out of your mouth next as you call him all kinds of crude names that are turning everyone's ears red.  

When you finally reach him he's clapping and you have the strongest urge to punch him, but then you realize what just happened and all the anger melts away.  _I did it! I skated! . . ._without breaking anything, you silently add and before you know it, you two are hugging and kissing and you're too busy learning the shape of his lips to notice the whistling from the other skaters.  

As you two come up for air his forehead rests against yours and you can't help but mark this moment as perfect, but it all ends when someone skates a little too close and sends you and Darien off balance crashing to the cold ice.  You blink up at the ceiling before rolling over to stare at him.  Once your eyes connected with his you both start to laugh hysterically and as he grabs your hand, you realize that falling on your ass wasn't as bad as you had originally thought.

When the third day comes the wind is blowing cold air 20 miles per hour, which make your eyes tear and your teeth chatter.  You try to wrap your arms around yourself, but your bubble coat gets in the way and in the end your arms grow tired until you have no choice but to put your hands in your pockets and continue your journey down the freezing path.  

You quicken your pace and when the wind burns your eyes you curse aloud and bury your face into the neckline of your coat by now wishing you were old enough to drive, _because walking is so last year_.  You see a payphone and think about calling Darien, but the thought of waiting for him to come and get you in this weather makes you wince and you abandon that idea.  So you keep walking.

As you approach the corner you make a run across the street before the light can turn green and almost sigh in relief as the blood begins to pour back into your legs.  You shake them and do a couple of leg lifts, but eventually they go numb again and you're left walking on legs that feel like jelly.

When your fingers and toes lose all feeling you become paranoid because you remember watching those specials about all the people who got caught in blizzards and had to have their foot removed because it had severe frostbite.  You whimper and wonder if you'll have to build an igloo or dig a trench, but there's not enough snow on the ground so you shake your head scolding yourself for even bringing those kinds of thoughts into your head.

You can see his building now and you would squeal in delight if only you weren't so cold.  You fall behind a chubby man and you send a silent thanks to the Supreme Being above because the wind is no longer hitting your face.  You quickly run from behind him and make your way into Darien's building in which you nearly break his doorbell because your fingers are cramping and your body is shivering and you wonder what the hell is taking him so long to answer the door.  

At the sight of your red nose and ears Darien quickly pulls you through the door and tries not to laugh at the image you make.  You notice the smirk and your glare warns him not to say a word, _don't you dare laugh! _ He rids you of the coat and gloves and you relax as he begins to rub your tingling hands in between his own and for a second you're reminded of the Disney movie with the Dalmatians where the dog owner does the same to get the little puppy to breathe.  Lucky, you think they named him and you close your eyes because you understand what the dog must've been feeling and for that moment as you look into Darien's eyes you think you might be lucky too.

On the fourth day of Christmas you skip into the arcade with a big smile on your face and you shrug as people ask the reason for such a good mood. _It's just one of those days,_ you say, not sure what that actually means, but you go along with your own saying just for hell of it and make your way over to Andrew.

He's whistling and wiping down the counter to a beat that was obviously in his head, as it didn't match the song that was playing over the intercom.  You greet him waving and took a place on the stool already anticipating the cheeseburger and fries your stomach had been asking for since you stepped out your front door this afternoon.  And who are you to argue?  

Before he walks away you quickly remind him not to forget your chocolate milkshake and you shrug when he makes a retort about the 30-degree weather and something about your sanity.  You smile and waggle your eyebrows; _you wouldn't love me if I were sane_.  When he brings you your food you don't waste another second and as Andrew comes back with three orders, you've already finished yours.  You can't help but blush when he raises a brow and wipes ketchup off your top lip smirking.

You ask him if he's seen Darien today and you watch him nod his head and point over to the corner.  But as his eyes trail to the other side of the room they widen while his mouth hangs open and you frown wondering what could cause such a reaction.  You find out soon enough as you follow his gaze to see Darien sitting close with another girl.  Darien's eyes are staring at the tabletop nervously, but you don't see this because the red head is whispering in his ear while her hand trails a path from his shoulder to his chest and you can't help but wonder the kind of sleazy things the girl is saying as she mashes her chest into his side. 

You ignore Andrew who's asking you to come back and sit down and you don't even realize you've left your seat.  You're aware your mouth is open yet there are too many things running through your mind and you can't choose what to say, but Darien's already looking at you, already rising.  That's the last thing you remember because you're pushing through the glass doors and running down the sidewalk.  You ignore the urge to go back and make Darien choose, but you vaguely remember your mom telling you to never fight over men and you're trying not to cry because Raye would call it weakness.

You don't know when Darien reached you or how you ended up against the wall, all you know is that his scent is intoxicating and you hate him because he's possibly cheating and you can't think about anything but his cologne.  _We were just studying_ he says and you snort wiping at the tears harshly because you didn't see his eyes on the books and he sighs as you tell him so.  You say she's beautiful and that you don't blame him, but then Darien's fingers are trailing across your parted lips and his eyes are so blue you think you're underwater.  _You're right, _he whispers and you close your eyes, but you don't know if it's because he agrees or because his lips are grazing your ear._ She's nice and everything . . . but she's not you._  When his lips crush yours you wrap your arms around his neck and the rest . . . well, the rest is a blank.

When the fifth day arrives you're bouncing in your seat and running back and forth to the window because Darien's supposed to pick you up and you haven't seen him all day.  You bite your nails and tap your foot impatiently while your father snaps the newspaper annoyingly loud and your mother eyes you with a tiny grin on her face.

You can see your father's jaw tighten and his knuckles turn white as he clutches the paper to almost tearing and you can only gulp and switch your gaze from the door and your intimidating father.  You close your eyes and send a silent prayer to whoever's listening because your father's glare is burning a hole through your neck and you know that the moment Darien walks through the door all hell's going to break loose.

When the doorbell sounds you jump up from the couch and practically run to the door.  Darien smiles and before he can step into the house, you nudge him back onto the porch and throw your coat over your shoulder shouting a farewell to your anxious parents.  _Not so fast, Serena_ your father says and then he's rising from the chair and walking over to you two by the door and all you can do is look toward the floor because you already know what he's going to say.

_He's too old for you_ and you can only gasp as he's calling Darien a cradle-robber and Darien's looking at him in surprise.  You groan and look toward your mother with pleading eyes hoping that she'll intervene and lock a muzzle on your father's mouth because his barking reminds you of a rabid dog.  _That's not nice dear _and your father's too busy arguing with your mother to notice you two sneaking out the front door but his angry voice is echoing down the driveway regarding a gun, a shovel and Darien's lifeless body and you can only laugh as he punches the gas pedal.  

You two can see the large crowd turning the corner and Darien's worried about the parking but right when the words leave his mouth an empty lot comes into focus and you smile when he opens your door and pulls you from the car.  You huddle close to him to keep warm but as you maneuver through the crowd of people you find that it's relatively warm and you silently thank all the people who gathered there as if with the one purpose to keep you from freezing and Darien laughs because your constant belief in fate astounds him.

When the loud voice travels through the wind the crowd goes quiet and turns toward the giant tree in the middle of the plaza and waits for the countdown to start.  You unknowingly clutch Darien's hand tightly and gasp as the beautiful lights flicker on shining throughout the entire square and through the _Ooo's and Ah's _and the taste of Darien's lipsyou wonder if you've entered a parallel universe filled with delectable treats.  The lights: red, yellow and green gumdrops with the wrapped chocolate star at the top and the sweet prince charming with his candy-coated lips at your side.       

As the sixth day comes along you're biting your nails and searching the shelves at some antique store filled with gadgets and books because Amy likes reading and you figure it's the easiest gift anybody could give her.  But as your eyes scan along the spines you realize you have no idea what kind of book will peak her interest and you pinch the bridge of your nose and you think you might be getting a headache.

You almost give up until Darien comes around the corner engrossed in his own book and you mentally hit yourself for forgetting that he came with you, but you two separated to search for something on your own.  You don't notice him furrow his brows or his eyes staring at your hand, but you feel him pull the black canvas bag out of your hand.  

_Where did you get this?_ He asks and you laugh because you've been carrying it around since you two left the house and this is the first time he's noticing it.  You smile as he blushes and you can't help thinking that he looks adorable this way and you wish he'd blush more, but you know he won't so you don't say anything at all.  You watch as he frowns remarking that it's something that an artist would carry and you nod because you don't know _how_ to reply, but he's already unzipping the bag and you're trying not to panic.

You bite your lip and look away as he's leafing through your personal works that have never been seen by anyone except by the art teacher who lets you use his classroom after school.  He once told you to enter an art competition, which you idly refused because a part of you was a coward while the other didn't think you had any talent, but Darien's hand on your shoulder stops your train of thought and now you have to face him.

_You did these?. . .they're beautiful_.  You're almost positive your eyes are wide in shock and Darien's looking at you in confusion because he can't understand why you would be surprised to hear such a compliment.  You tell him he's the only one who's seen it and he wants to know why, but all you can do is shrug and watch as he picks up the one of Amy reading a book and Darien likes it.

He thinks you should give it to Amy as her Christmas present, but it's only a sketch and you don't want to give her a black and white picture because you think it'll seem unfinished.  Darien disagrees, _color is overrated_ he says, _it looks more realistic this way_ and then you remember that it was the same thing you thought when you first did it and you nod because you didn't know he was into art too. When he replaces all your work neatly in its case you smile because now you don't feel worthless, you know you have a talent now, that you can succeed in the world and you're happy because another art competition is coming up and you already know what you want to do.      

On the seventh day of Christmas you find yourself sitting on Darien's bed watching his reflection in the mirror.  As he a runs a comb through his hair you can't help but roll your eyes considering you've seen him do it at least six times before and you hope that he's doing it to annoy you and not because he actually believes his hair needs fixing.

After a few more minutes of watching him primp, (_God, you're such a girl_), you decide to relax as you scoot over by the headboard.  You take notice of certain things in the room such as the three bottles of cologne sitting on his dresser, you can't tell if they're the same, but then it didn't really matter.  You spot the leather chair in the corner and wonder how many times a week he lounges in it reading a book and as you make yourself comfortable you notice that the left side of the bed sags more than the right and you can't help but imagine the number of women who slept next to him.

When Darien bends over to pick up something from the floor you lay back with your hands behind your head and smile as you get a nice view of his ass.  He smirks at you already knowing what your smile means and asks if you like what you see.  _Very,_ you reply and giggle when he gives you a little shake of his hips.  

He walks over to the closet and rummages through and you can't find one article of clothing out of place and you wonder if he's some kind of clean freak because the rest of the apartment is just as spotless.  You're tempted to pull the covers off the bed and throw them on the floor, but you figure a boyfriend who has a heart attack isn't much use and you scratch that idea. You can only shake your head in exasperation as you catch a quick glance at the neatly placed shoes before he closes the door.

You make another comment about him being a girl and he raises a brow reminding you of the pigsty you sleep in every night. _I'm a teenage girl so that doesn't count, _you stress with a pout and you nearly choke as he throws his jacket on.  It wasn't the act that was making you frown so openly, it was the jacket he was wearing; the same ugly green jacket that he _always_ wore.  It wasn't a green that reminded you of grass or a green that made you crave apples; it was a dull color that could be associated with vomit.  An olive green that was not at all attractive.

You say you wish he would get rid of it, but Darien refuses without a thought and your left trying to count the number things that could persuade him to like such an unappealing piece of fabric.  You make another face, but then he turns around and there's an unfamiliar spark of color in his eyes that was never there before yet it's so obvious now.  You crawl closer until your grabbing his face and staring into his eyes trying to memorize those specks that are the same color as the one item of clothing you hate, but unlike the jacket his eyes are the most beautiful you have ever seen.  Even if it _is_ an ugly jacket you appreciate it so much more now.    

As the eighth day comes around you find that your movements don't match your thoughts and your tripping over things that you normally wouldn't or slipping on the stairs because your mind wandered at the last moment and you can't remember if you already passed the last step.  Eventually you're kicked out the house when you try to throw your brother out one of the second floor windows because he was teasing you about being clumsy and you took it too seriously.

So now you're cold and resenting your parents for not stopping at one child and after walking around doing absolutely nothing except getting your feet caught in invisible cracks you decide to pay Darien a visit and take full advantage of his cable.  He watches you curiously as you stroll in as soon as the door opens and raises a brow when you trip over the rug and stumble all the way to the couch.  You wave him off when he asks if you're okay and take a seat.

_I meant to do that_ you say and he just shakes his head and you know he's probably skimming through his memories replaying all your awkward moments, which is a phrase you'd rather use because you think it sounds better than saying _clumsy, _an act you haven't done in awhile now, you remind yourself quickly.

You ask him if he's busy and you almost feel guilty for interrupting him because he has a paper due soon, but the guilt dissipates when he tells you to make yourself comfortable.  You comply of course and surf through all the channels and you want to curse the cable companies because out of the 856 channels there is nothing worth watching and you find yourself bored again.

You're so bored that watching Darien becomes a favorite pastime until he tells you to stop because it's nerve-racking and gives him goose bumps and you pout telling him you're bored, _then take a nap_ he says and you're amazed because he managed to do it with his fingers still typing.  You decline and instead opt to get something to eat ignoring Darien's comment about not being surprised as you make your way into the kitchen.

You reach for a glass and cry out in horror because your hand slips and you can only wince as the glass crashes to the floor.  You tell Darien that everything's fine and crouch down to pick up the pieces never once thinking that they were sharp, but you look down in shock as a red line spreads across your finger.  You don't know how Darien knew you were hurt or why he showed up by your side, but then you remember crying out in pain and now all you see is him cleaning the cut and wrapping it with a bandage and your trying not to show any signs of pain, but he already knows because he leans over and places a soft kiss on your wounded finger.  It tingles and you smile through the unshed tears and almost wish you had another cut for him to mend.

On the ninth day of Christmas you and Darien get into your first fight and you're glaring at him from the other side of the room while leaning against the wall with your arms crossed over your chest because he doesn't remember what he said to gain such a reaction.  You see the pen on the floor and vaguely recall throwing it at his head because you hoped it would knock something into place, what that something was, you had no idea.

He called you violent and you told him to be thankful that it was the pen and not your shoe even though at the time you were seriously considering using the shoe but decided against it.  If you had given him a concussion you couldn't yell at him anymore and you had a few choice words left that you wanted to get out without feeling guilty.

_Serena _he says and you can't keep your eyes from trailing over to him even though you told yourself not to because you're weak and the moment you see his big blue eyes you'll forgive him and then he'll never learn.  With that thought you purse your lips and look to the ground and you can hear him sighing, but you don't care if you've hurt his feelings because he's hurt you more.

After a few minutes of your silence he finally asks why you're mad at him and you snort saying he should already know and then he's shrugging and you're cracking your knuckles (the action reminding you of Lita) and accusing him of calling you stupid and he's looking at you as if you really are.

You think you might hate him now and through all the screaming you're lacing up your shoes and slipping your arms through the sleeves of your coat and stomping to the door, but Darien's telling you not to go and has made it to the door before you.  You tell him to move and he shakes his head claiming he'd never say such a thing and you're asking him to move a second time, but he refuses and throws you over his shoulder.  You kick and scream until you're lying on the couch and his body is holding you in place and you blush because his pelvis is in between your legs and all of a sudden the situation's become extremely erotic and you wonder if he's trying to seduce you.

_Just because I don't get the grades that you or Amy get doesn't mean I won't understand _you whisper and his eyes are widening and he's shaking his head because he's stupid and he didn't mean it that way.  He agrees about the grades part, but quickly adds a part about you not being stupid and you sigh as he's kisses your cheeks and neck and then your lips and you think he tastes like candy, addictive, and you're in danger of becoming a diabetic, but you don't care.  You just don't care.

When the tenth day arrives you're tearing your hair out strand-by-strand and chewing on your pencil, which is on the verge of breakage from all the teeth marks.  You crumble another piece of paper and throw it over your shoulder with a growl because you're frustrated as hell and you're too busy staring at the sheet with all the numbers in panic to notice Darien tossing you amused glances.

You scratch your head and send a silent curse to your teacher for giving you work during the holidays and you hate her because it seems she gave you more work than your classmates, but you don't have proof so you push the thought away.  You write something and for a minute you think you might have actually solved the problem, but the answer doesn't look right and you end up scratching it out and starting all over.

After a few more tries at the same question you frown and throw your pencil down on the tabletop and pop a green skittle in your mouth. You chew on it thoughtfully as your mind wanders to the taste of Darien's lips and for some reason the skittles comfort you while you're rubbing your head and trying extremely hard not to cry.

You put a little drama into the gestures hoping that Darien will see and take pity because it's so obvious you need help and you think maybe throwing in a curse word or two could add to your attempt at looking pathetic.  You steal a glance and see him reading a thick book and smiling and you have the feeling he's already aware of your dilemma as well as your staring and you want to kick him.

_Damn it Darien! You know I need your help!_  He throws his head back and laughs because he's been waiting for you to ask ever since your first crumpled piece of paper hit the floor.  He sits down next to you and pulls your notebook over so he can see and you watch his eyes scan the problems and you can almost see the wheels in his head turning.

He explains what you need to do and you're staring at him blankly because you have no idea what he's talking about and you feel like you're in a snoopy movie and all you hear is the teacher mumbling.  You frown and sigh not understanding how to find the answer and you wonder how you're supposed to find it without knowing what "x" is, but then Darien's laughing and you _oh_ because "x" is the answer.  Once that problem is done you're feeling great and not so stupid and you can't wait to get to school and show off, but your eyes land on the next problem and now you're whining and Darien's smirking, _x, y _and_ z? What!_     

As the eleventh day strolls along you're yawning and trying unsuccessfully not to look bored because your parents are having a little Christmas eve dinner party and you were forced to stay and listen to all the adult conversation as if you actually understood or cared about what came out of their mouths.  You almost asked your father if you could invite Darien but he glared already expecting your question and you sighed instead.

You frown at the video game your brother is playing and you're visualizing Bruce Lee leaping and landing with both feet and smashing the Playstation into tiny little pieces.  You remember him doing it in a movie once, but when you start getting a headache you decide to find the name of it another day and resolve to glaring at the annoying sounds coming from the television. 

At the sound of laughter coming in from the dining area you walk over to the window and watch the snowflakes fall from the sky.  By your stance you know you're pouting but before you could call yourself the immature brat that you are your communicator is beeping and you're too busy running through the door to acknowledge your brother's tattletale whining.

By the time you arrive at the park you're cursing the short skirt and thin cloth as the cold night air bleeds through your suit and you cry out in anguish as your teeth rattle loudly because you swear you can see icicles hanging from your fingers tips.  At Mercury's scream you stop pulling on your skirt (hoping the constant tugging will make it longer) and sprint toward the sounds of battle.

You ignore Mars' scathing remarks about your late arrival and pull off your tiara already aiming at the ugly (_extremely ugly_, you think) youma's head, but then it misses and you're running and screaming because his claws are snapping at your heels.  You're too busy trying to stay alive to notice Tuxedo Mask running through the bushes and it isn't until he tells you to throw your tiara do you realize the glowing Frisbee in your hand.

Before you can question how it got there you're throwing it again and reciting the familiar words as the youma screams in pain and agony turning into a frozen pile of dust and you're blinking up from the ground wondering how you got there.  You can hear Mars in the background calling you useless and you frown because _you're_ the one who destroyed the youma but Tuxedo Mask's hands are trailing over your bare arms and legs looking for any wounds and you find yourself relaxing.  _Don't worry about her, _he says,_ being pinned to the bark of a tree with extractable, sharp claws can easily aggravate a person_ and all you can do is smile.

On the twelfth day of Christmas you wake up feeling extremely excited and you don't know if it's because you have a pile of presents waiting for you or because you'll be seeing Darien later on tonight.  You hop out the bed and quickly run down the stairs, but the moment you see your family sitting in the living room surrounded by wrapping paper you scream at them for not waking you up.

_We tried, honey _you hear your mother reply but you're too busy ripping the boxes open to even acknowledge her words.  You squeal in delight as the new edition of _Vertabrim_ falls out and you're thanking your parents because it's one of your favorite comic books and now that pile of money in your closet can go to a new sweater.  

By your last gift you're smiling because you've gotten everything you wanted and you're already piecing together the new clothes you received and wondering what shoes would look better with which skirt.  You're aware it's freezing outside, but you only care about which skirt will make Darien drool. Besides, skirts are easier to get out of, you think blushing and your brother is raising a brow at your red face and you can only turn away.

By the time Darien picks you up, your brother and your parents are gone from the house and Darien lets out relieved sigh and you want to laugh at his fear of your father, but you decide against it.  His apartment is clean as usual except the coffee table in between the couch and the television and in its place are pillows and two wine glasses with rose petals sprinkled all over the blanket.

You gasp because it's the most beautiful and unexpected thing to ever see and you happily gulp down the cider and eat his pre-ordered food, which of course you're grateful for and Darien smiles knowingly as you pat your stomach in satisfaction.  He's smiling that gorgeous smile and you don't remember crawling over to him, but he's kissing you and you're working the buttons on his shirt.  When he stops and looks at you with the question hanging in the air you nod because all you want to feel is him inside you and he groans in desire as you tell him so.

Not a sound is made after that except for the shuffling of clothes and moans of pleasure as he moves within you steadily.  You love how he whispers your name and the way his skin feels against yours and how his hands know every inch of your body and you moan as he strokes that spot inside you.  _I love you, Serena_ and you climax right then and you notice your vision go blurry and the dryness in your throat and you think over and over how much you love this man.

But then you blink and the love scene ends and you're stuck standing in the middle of the room, your eyes still trailing the couple with the clasped hands.

You almost want to cry because it was such a beautiful dream and it cuts you deep because you know Raye is the one living it while you're wishing things were different and grieving in the corner.

You put them together, you remind yourself and you take a deep breath and clutch the bag even tighter.  You even manage to smile when they walk over to you and Raye hugs you and tells you how much she loves her gift and you're too busy trying not to stare into his vibrant blue eyes to hear her words but you smile and nod anyway.

_What's in the bag? _He asks and you're stuck swimming in water but you manage to pull yourself above surface and answer without looking foolish.  _Oh nothing_, you reply maneuvering the bag behind your back inconspicuously enough for them not to notice your trembling fingers and unsteady breath.  

They wave goodbye and you watch him help Raye into her coat and you can't help but smile because he's happy and you wish not to complicate things with Raye any further.  

You want to be the one holding his hand, but you push the feelings away and smile sadly because through all the bickering you remember she's your friend.

When Darien smiles in your direction from the doorway you clutch the bag to your chest.  Mentally saving your desires and his hand-drawn black and white portrait for a rainy day, you turn away never noticing his concerned look.

You're a great matchmaker, you think and even though you pulled your hair out trying to find the perfect Christmas gift you finally realize, _that_ is the best present you could ever give him. 

~Finis~


End file.
